A few years ago, I was reviewing a teammate's pull request. The logic worked fine, but the code looked like a maze. I found myself scribbling notes, trying to follow variables that seemed to appear out of nowhere, and function names that sounded like inside jokes only the author understood.
When we spoke, he explained everything perfectly, step by step.
That's when it hit me: if a block of code needs a lengthy guided tour, then it isn't as good as it could be.
After our conversation, he refactored the entire thing. The new version? Crystal clear. No explanation needed. It was like watching someone rewrite a rambling story into a perfect one-liner. That moment changed how I think about code forever.
It reminded me of a line I once read:
Good code is like a good joke: it needs no explanation.
Think about it. The best jokes land instantly. You don't need to pause and say, "Wait, here's why it's funny." If you do, the magic is gone. Code works the same way.
Why This Matters
When you write code, you're not just communicating with a machine. You're communicating with people, your future self, your teammates, maybe even strangers who'll maintain your project years from now.
Bad jokes make people groan. Bad code makes people frustrated, and costs real time and money. Every hour spent deciphering unclear code is an hour not spent building features, fixing bugs, or helping customers. New team members take twice as long to onboard. Production incidents happen because someone misunderstood the logic.
Good jokes bring people together. Good code makes teams faster, happier, and more confident.
What Makes Code “Like a Good Joke”?
Clarity – The punchline should be obvious. Variable and function names should describe what they do without extra comments.
Simplicity – The joke is short and to the point. Code should avoid unnecessary complexity.
Flow – A good joke has rhythm; each line sets up the next. Good code reads like a story where each line naturally follows.
Timing – A joke delivered too early or too late falls flat. Code that does too much too soon, or delays important logic, confuses the reader.
The 5 Rules of Joke-Level Code
Rule 1: Name Things Well
If you need a comment to explain what a function does, rename the function.
❌ Bad:
A bad funtion name example
✅ Better:
A good function name example
See the difference? The second version tells you exactly what it does. No detective work required.
Rule 2: Keep Functions Short
A good joke isn't a 10-minute story. Break large methods into smaller, focused ones.
❌ Confusing:
Confusing funtion example
✅ Clear:
Clear & short function example
Now you can understand the flow at a glance. Each function does one thing and does it well.
Rule 3: Use Comments Sparingly
Comments should explain why you're doing something unusual, not what the code is doing. The code itself should already explain that.
Implementation based on RFC 6749 section 4.1
When comments are NOT needed:
Code explains itself
This code explains itself. The comments add nothing.
Rule 4: Refactor Ruthlessly
If a joke doesn't land, a comedian rewrites it. If your code feels clunky, rewrite it until it flows smoothly.
When you finish writing a function, read it out loud. Does it make sense? Would someone who's never seen this codebase understand it? If not, refactor.
Rule 5: Think About the Audience
Who will read this code next? Write as if you're telling the joke to a beginner. If they can follow it, you've nailed it.
Ask yourself:
Will a junior developer understand this in 6 months?
Will I understand this at 3 am during an outage?
Could someone jump into this codebase and be productive on day one?
If the answer is no, simplify.
Giving and Receiving Feedback on "Joke-Level" Code
When reviewing code that doesn't "land":
Do:
Point to specific lines: "This function name doesn't tell me what it returns."
Suggest improvements: "What if we renamed this to find_eligible_subscribers?"
Explain the impact: "Future developers will have to trace through 3 files to understand this."
Don't:
Be vague: "This is confusing" (What specifically is confusing?)
Rewrite everything yourself (Let them learn)
Make it personal: "You always write messy code."
When receiving feedback:
Assume good intent; they're trying to help
Ask questions: "What would make this clearer?"
Remember: Today's "obvious" code is tomorrow's mystery if you don't write it well
A Final Thought
The best developers I've worked with didn't just write code that worked; they wrote code that spoke clearly. Reading it felt like watching a master comedian deliver a one-liner: Sharp, Effortless, and Memorable.
So the next time you're writing a function or reviewing a pull request, ask yourself:
Does this code explain itself, or will I have to explain it?
Because if it needs no explanation… you've just written something great.
Your Challenge This Week:
Pick one function you wrote recently. Read it with fresh eyes. Then ask: Would a stranger get the joke?
If not, refactor it. Make it clearer. Make it simpler. Make it land.
Your future self and your teammates will thank you.
